The Most Comforting Thing
by storylover18
Summary: When Kit comes down with the flu, he and Ella share a cup of tea as Kit recalls a memory from his childhood.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Cinderella.**

 **Hello, everyone! It has been over a year since I've posted anything here – one part having writer's block, one part being in grad school, and one part being in hospital is the perfect recipe for not being able to write. However, I currently have lots of time on my hands as I'm recovery from surgery. I've always loved Cinderella and lo and behold, watching the live-action film again was just the ticket to cure my writer's block! Please enjoy =)**

All through the night, Ella was aware of Kit's tossing and turning. Dawn was just beginning to break when she finally said something.

"Kit?" she whispered, glancing over. "Are you awake?"

Kit was lying on his side facing Ella and his eyes were closed but he sighed.

"Yes."

Ella frowned slightly.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he murmured. "Why do you ask?"

"You've barely slept all night."

Kit finally opened his eyes and smiled tiredly at his queen.

"So I am tired," he amended. "But I am still fine."

Ella studied the king's pale face but after a moment smiled back.

"Alright," she conceded.

Kit rolled onto his back and when Ella moved closer, he wrapped his arm around her.

"Do you have a busy day?" Ella asked.

"Yes," answered Kit. "But not too busy that I can't fit in an afternoon walk with my wife."

"Mhmm," mused Ella. "Sounds lovely. Shall we take a picnic?"

"We can if you wish. It'd be nice eating in the garden."

"It's settled, then." Ella confirmed, studying her husband's face. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Kit met her eyes, which had worry lines formed at their corners, and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sure."

* * *

Around two o'clock, Ella was in the kitchens preparing the picnic for her and Kit when the Captain came down the stairs.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing his head. Ella looked up from the bread she was buttering.

"Is everything alright, Captain?"

The man hesitated.

"I'm concerned about his Royal Highness."

Ella frowned.

"What's the matter?"

"He does not look well."

"How so?"

"He's in a daze, barely concentrating. His eyes are dark and his skin pale."

Ella sighed.

"And you've asked if he is alright?"

The Captain nodded.

"I suggested he have a lie-down but he refused. He says he's fine."

Ella wiped her hands on the apron she was wearing and then untied it.

"Where is he now?"

"The library."

"Thank you, Captain. I'll see to him."

The Captain smiled and bowed his head again as Ella walked past him. She climbed the stairs and walked the long hallway to the library.

"Could you please leave for a moment?" she asked the attendant at the door.

"Certainly, your Majesty."

The man left his post and closed the door quietly.

"Kit?" Ella called softly as she began walking through the large room. She found Kit sitting at an elegantly carved desk in an alcove. Papers were strewn and pen was in hand but he wasn't working.

"Kit," Ella said with a sigh. Kit looked up at her, surprised he hadn't heard her come in.

"What are you doing here? I'm not late for our walk, am I?"

Ella shook her head.

"It's not yet tea time," she said. "The Captain came to fetch me."

"Why? Is something the matter?"

"He is concerned about your wellbeing," answered Ella. "And so am I."

"You needn't be. As I've told you both, I am tired but otherwise fine."

"You don't look at all well, Kit. You ought to be in bed."

"I need to finish here and then I have a picnic supper with my wife."

Kit tried to smile charmingly at Ella but she didn't smile back.

"You'll do no such thing," she replied. "The work can wait and I'm sure your wife will keep you company by your sickbed."

Kit sighed and set his pen down. Ella came to his side and gently helped him up.

"See now, that wasn't so hard."

Ella led Kit out of the library. The Captain was standing in the hallway.

"Captain, please see to it that the king rests undisturbed for the rest of the day."

The Captain smiled at Ella; Kit avoided eye contact.

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Thank you." Ella smiled back. "Can you also send for the physician?"

Nodding, the Captain began walking down the hall away from them.

"The physician is not necessary," Kit said, still holding tightly to Ella for fear of losing his balance.

"Best to be safe," replied Ella. "Come on now, off to bed with you."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Ella pulled the quilt up around Kit.

"There," she murmured, brushing the hair off his forehead. "Are you comfortable?"

Kit nodded and opened his mouth to say something but there was a knock at the door.

"That'll be the physician," Ella said, standing. She returned with the doctor, who conducted his examination quickly.

"Nothing more than a case of the flu, your Majesty," he assured Kit before turning to Ella.

"He needs to rest and drink plenty of fluids but he will be fine."

"Thank you, doctor."

The physician left and Ella sat on the edge of the bed again.

"I told you I was fine," Kit said and Ella raised an eyebrow.

"You are not fine," she answered. "You heard what the doctor said: you have the flu."

Kit smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry about our picnic."

"It's alright," Ella answered. "Can I get you something to eat? Are you hungry?"

Kit shook his head.

"Then how about some tea? The doctor said you need fluids."

Kit sighed.

"I know; I heard that part, too." Kit said but then smiled. "I'll have some tea but only if you have some with me."

"Deal," Ella answered. Kit watched her leave – she always made their tea; old habits were hard to change and she couldn't get used to having someone else serve her something as simple as tea – and snuggled further into the blankets, shivering. The truth was he felt dreadful but he hadn't wanted to say anything. He had far too much to do right now and had hoped to avoid spending a few days in bed but alas, his ailment had finally caught up to him.

Ella returned a few minutes later with the tea tray and she set it on a small table near the window. She fixed Kit's tea the way he liked it and brought it to him.

"Thank you," he murmured, sitting up slightly.

"You're welcome," Ella answered, returning for her drink. She settled herself next to Kit on the bed.

"How does it taste?"

"Wonderful."

"Good." Ella sipped her tea. "I'm sorry you feel ill."

"It's not your doing."

"Nor is it yours. It's always sad when the people we love are hurting and I'm sorry to see it."

"It is," Kit agreed. "And I'm sorry I wasn't truthful with you and the Captain earlier."

Ella smiled.

"You didn't fool me for a moment, Kit."

Kit chuckled.

"You're just like my mother. She always knew when I was hiding something."

"What could you possibly have to hide from her?" Ella asked.

"You'd be surprised."

"Surprise me, then."

Kit sipped his tea again and thought.

"There were the ordinary things any boy tried to hide, things that I would be punished for. I broke a window once and another time my tutors were very displeased about my composition about the finer faults of fourteenth-century poetry. She found out about both of those instances."

Ella laughed.

"But my best – and worst, it turned out – attempt to hide anything from her," Kit continued. "Was when I was about nine years old …"

* * *

"Your Highness?" Lucille, the governess, called through the door. "Are you awake?"

An adolescent Kit buried himself further under his quilt, hugging the not-too-hot warming pan close to his chest and taking great care to rest his chin on the outer rim. He ignored Lucille's calls.

"Prince Kit, if you do not open this door, I am coming in."

Kit could hear the irritation in her voice but remained where he was.

"I am coming in," Lucille called again. Kit heard the door open and in one swift movement, pressed his face against the smooth side of the warming pan and then shoved it to the bottom of the bed.

"What are you still doing abed?" Lucille exclaimed, coming into view. "You're going to be late and you know what your father says, Master Kit, punctuality is the politeness of princes."

"I'm ill," Kit whimpered, trying to sound weak and feeble. "I can't go to my lessons today."

Lucille placed her hand on Kit's forehead and then studied the young boy. Kit coughed pathetically.

"You are warm," she conceded with a sigh. "Alright, Master Kit, you stay here while I fetch the physician and your mother."

"Not the physician," Kit exclaimed, forgetting momentarily to sound sick. "Please, it's not that bad."

"We'll see what your mother thinks. Stay in bed."

Lucille walked away and Kit smiled to himself. He crawled to the bottom of his bed and retrieved the warming pan, once again hugging it to himself – he needed to be warm and sweaty when his mother appeared.

Kit stayed still and silent and when he heard the _click-click-click_ of his mother's shoes in the hallway outside, he again pressed the warmer to his face and then kicked it to bottom of the bed. He winced slightly as he heard it fall out the other side but he had no time to retrieve it. Instead, he put on the best sick face he could muster.

His mother and Lucille came into the room and his mother sat on the edge of the bed.

"Lucille says you are not well, Kit," she said. Kit shook his head and coughed. The Queen clucked her tongue as she laid a cool hand on her son's forehead and then cheek.

"You told Lucille the physician wasn't necessary."

"He's not," Kit said quietly – somehow he equated talking quietly with being ill, likely because when he was well he could be heard throughout the palace. "I am sure I will be alright again in a few days."

"You didn't seem unwell last night when Father and I took you for a walk through the gardens."

"I was fine then," Kit coughed again. "But now I'm hot and sweaty and my head aches."

"What about your stomach? Are you hungry?"

"My stomach feels fine and I need breakfast but everything else is rather achy."

"Oh dear," the Queen said, standing up. "Well, you must do exactly what Lucille says to get better, is that clear?"

"Yes, Mother. Are you going to send for the physician?"

Kit held his breath for the answer as it would determine the success of his plan. He knew the doctor would see through his guise in an instant and he was somewhat surprised he had fooled his mother.

"No," his mother replied. "You do not think it's necessary and I know you to be an honest and responsible young prince so I will take your word for it."

Kit felt a slight sense of unease building in his stomach but he swallowed it and nodded.

"Thank you," he said.

"Your father and I will check in later," the Queen said, leaning down to kiss Kit's forehead. "Rest well, dear."

The Queen turned to Lucille and smiled.

"You know what needs to be done."

"Yes, your Majesty," Lucille said, bowing as the Queen walked past her. Once his mother had left the room, Kit breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at Lucille.

"May I have breakfast?"

"Of course, Master Kit. I will fetch it for you as soon as we warm you up."

"Warm me up? I am already warm."

"Yes," Lucille said, kneeling to pick up the warming pan. "But the key to curing a fever is to sweat it out."

Kit didn't say anything as Lucille refilled and replaced the warming pan. His silence continued as she found three extra quilts and his thickest jumper to be worn over his night clothes.

"I think," Kit said, shifting uncomfortably in his very warm bed. "That I am warm enough. May I eat something now, please?"

"Yes," answered Lucille. "I will be right back."

Once she was gone, Kit kicked off the blankets – he was really sweating now and he was sure his face was red.

"Master Kit!" Lucille exclaimed, returning a few minutes later. "You mustn't remove the blankets or the cure won't work."

"But I am sweating."

"You're supposed to be. Now here you are, your Highness, breakfast in bed."

Kit's stomach grumbled at the prospect of food but he was disappointed when Lucille set in front of him a tray with nothing more on it than a cup of weak tea and a piece of toast.

"Can I not have some eggs and sausage with this?" he asked.

"I am afraid not," Lucille said. "You know the saying: feed a cold and starve a fever."

"You're going to _starve_ me?"

"Of course not, Master Kit, did I not just bring you breakfast? No, the way to cure a fever is to feed the body as little as possible."

"I thought the way to cure a fever was to sweat it out."

"It is." Lucille answered. "Now eat up before it goes cold."

Kit half-heartedly ate his meagre breakfast and his stomach was still grumbling when Lucille took the tray away.

"May I read a book?" Kit asked. "Or work on my model ship?"

Lucille shook her head.

"You must rest," she said. "But I will read to you from a very good book I've been reading and I must say, I can't put it down!"

"What is it called?" Kit asked.

" _The Shepheardes Calender_."

"Who is it by?"

"Edmund Spencer," replied Lucille. "Shall I get it?"

"Couldn't we read one of my books?" Kit asked hopefully.

"No, we can't have you getting too excited. You need -,"

"Rest," Kit finished with a sigh. "Alright, let's read your book."

Lucille left and returned with the book and began reading. Kit found it dreadfully dull and he was uncomfortable. The extra blankets and jumper were still making him sweat and his stomach was beginning to ache from hunger.

"Would you like me to stop?" Lucille asked after about an hour. She had looked up to see Kit staring out the window at the sunny day.

"May I bathe?" Kit asked, thinking that at least a hot bath would be better than a hot bed.

"Good idea," Lucille answered. "A cold bath is just the thing to shock your system and cure your fever."

"A … a cold bath?" Kit repeated, slightly dazed. Lucille nodded.

"Absolutely."

Before Kit could protest or change his mind, Lucille was filling the tub. He got into the cold water and by the time he was back in bed, his teeth were chattering.

"We'll get you warmed up in an instant," Lucille said, piling all the blankets back on. "And then I'll fetch your dinner."

"What is for dinner?" Kit asked hesitantly.

"Broth," replied Lucille. "It's the best thing for a sick prince. Don't worry, you can enjoy a big supper tonight."

"Why? I thought you had to starve a fever."

"Well, yes, but that's only during the day. Eating a big meal before you go to bed tonight will lead to a healthy tomorrow."

"Oh."

* * *

The adult Kit paused long enough to coughed and sip his tea to soothe the tickle in his throat.

"Oh, poor Kit," Ella said, though she couldn't help laughing. "Why didn't you tell Lucille then that you weren't actually unwell?"

"Because she would have made me go to my afternoon lessons and I distinctly recall that the reason I decided to be ill on that day was because I had two dance sessions that afternoon."

"I see," Ella replied, sounding amused. "So you continued your ruse?"

Kit nodded and continued.

* * *

By supper time, Kit was positively famished but when the meal arrived – roast beef with gravy, Yorkshire puddings, roasted potatoes, and fresh green beans – he only managed to eat a little bit of it before putting down his fork.

"Lucille," he said. "I don't feel well."

Lucille glanced at his mostly-full plate.

"Of course you don't, you need to eat up."

Kit sighed and picked up fork again. He managed to eat about two-thirds of the food but then had to stop.

"No pudding?" Lucille asked, clearing the tray.

"No, thank you."

Kit lay down miserably. His stomach hurt and his head really did ache now.

"Your parents are going to be visiting you shortly," Lucille told him. Kit nodded and closed his eyes. He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, his mother was gently running her hand through his hair.

"Kit," she murmured softly. "Wake up, Kit."

Kit cracked his eyes opened and groaned.

"Mother, I don't feel well."

The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly. She pushed the extra blankets off the bed and felt her son's forehead and then the back of his neck.

"You're burning up!" she exclaimed. "Dear heart, how did you get so sick?"

Kit shrugged listlessly as his mother looked at Lucille.

"Your Majesties," she stammered. "I … I did exactly what we discussed, your Highness, and Prince Kit was fine until supper. He fell asleep then and I let him rest because I knew you'd be arriving."

The Queen sighed.

"It is not your fault, Lucille," she said. "I was the one who instructed you to put the extra blankets on him, give him a cold bath, and feed him nothing substantial until now. If anyone is to blame, it is I."

The uneasy feeling was coming back in Kit's stomach and he knew it wasn't his stomach ache.

"It isn't your fault, Mother. It is mine."

"Why is that, Kit?" his father wanted to know. Kit swallowed and winced at his sore throat.

"I pretended to be ill this morning. If I had just gone to my lessons like I was supposed to, Lucille would not have had to take care of me all day. I'm sorry."

He saw his parents exchange looks.

"Kit," his mother said softly, returning to her ministrations with his hair. "I knew you were not ill this morning. Lucille saw you warming your forehead with the warming pan. When she came to fetch me, we decided to indulge your request by making the day horridly boring and uncomfortable."

"It worked," Kit mumbled. He felt too miserable to comment on the fact that his secret had never actually been a secret.

"I – _we_ – never intended for you to become unwell as a result," the Queen continued. "And I am sorry."

"But," his father added. "I daresay you have learned a very important lesson today, Kit."

"Yes, Father."

"I am sorry as well, Master Kit," Lucille said. "How do a warm bath and a fresh bed with clean linens sound? We can read one of your stories until you fall asleep."

"Okay. Are you going to call the physician?"

"Yes," his father answered. "He is already on his way."

Kit sighed again but nodded.

"That is probably a good idea," he murmured and his mother smiled.

* * *

"Poor Kit," Ella repeated once her husband finished telling the story. "You tried to get out of your lessons by being ill but became unwell as a result. Your poor mother must've felt terrible about it."

"Yes," Kit answered. "Although she never believed for a moment I was ill, it wasn't her intention to make me sick. I think one of the reasons she believed me that evening was because I said the physician should be called. I was never one to willingly see him."

Ella laughed.

"You still aren't, it would seem."

"No, I suppose not but I do promise that I am not pretending this time."

"I didn't think you were," Ella answered. "Shall I read to you until you fall asleep?"

"As long as it's not _The Shepheardes Calender_."

Ella smiled.

"Of course not," she said, reaching over to her bedside table. She picked up the book she had been reading.

" _Romeo and Juliet_ ," she began. "By William Shakespeare."

Kit smiled as he got comfortable. He wasn't listening to the story as much as he was finding comfort in Ella's voice. If he had to be unwell at least she was here with him, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, and that was the most comforting thing of all.

 **I have another cute one-shot idea which I'll likely try my hand at but I'd love to hear what you thought of this one. For having such natural chemistry on screen, it was surprisingly hard to get a good vibe going between Kit and Ella. Please review!**


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